A Madman's Circus
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: Deep in the woods, hidden in darkness… There it lies, a madman's circus… The ringmaster, with his deadened eyes… Comes welcoming, jaws gaping wide….


_Death Note meets Vocaloid's Dark Woods Circus. Seriously, what more do I need to say? I'm sure a lot of you have already seen my B fanart featuring him as a Ringmaster, and maybe even :iconYurinoki:'s too. Though if not, I highly suggest taking a look. They're the basis for this fucked up piece of work. Either way, there's not much you need to know other than what I've told you, as the fanfic explains it all. So yes…let's start the show…_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note OR DWC. This plot bunny was a collaboration, though Ringmaster is my spawn, and I adore him. ;)**_

_Deep in the woods, hidden in darkness…_

_There it lies, a madman's circus…_

_The ringmaster, with his deadened eyes…_

_Comes welcoming, jaws gaping wide…._

_All of the cast, they are smiling…._

_Their bodies, bruised and distorted…._

_But look here, doesn't this seem fun…?_

_Come now, explore! The madman's circus…._

He hadn't known what to think when he first ventured into the woods, seeking out the circus that was advertised on the gothic looking flier clutched in his hand. It'd been shoved at him by a brunette in tattered rags, obviously a costume, that morning on his way to school, and Light had barely had time to get a word in edge wise before the woman was off distributing more fliers. Of course, Light hadn't been planning on going. Why would he? It certainly wasn't his sort of thing. But after looking over the sheaf of paper, which boasted the words Madman's Circus in sparkling black gilt script, he'd let his curiosity run wild. What would it be like, this "Madman's Circ us"? Would it be more thought out than the silly carnivals his mother had dragged him to as a child? Would there be real entertainment, rather than clowns in primary colors, or so called attractions that everyone knew were just fakes in costumes? The woman passing out the fliers hadn't looked anything like them. She'd been filthy, her clothes actually unkempt looking, and stained with dirt. The same could be said for her hair and face. And there had been…_something _in her gaunt eyes. It was scary, dark, and strangely appealing.

Light couldn't resist finding out more about the kind of circus that could inspire such emotion.

So he'd followed the evening crowd out of the city as they made their way to an old patch of woods that seemed cut off from the world itself. The twisting, winding path they'd walked had seemed eerily dark, but then torches had come into view, and soon enough the auburn haired boy was looking at a massive red tent surrounded by miniature versions with curtained doorways, and grounds that were filled with the most odd, disturbingly beautiful sights he'd ever witnessed in all his fifteen years. There were cages with massive iron bars. Some were curtained off, but others were free for viewing. Across the grounds was a makeshift enclosure that had several stalls set up, and he smelled something delicious coming from them. Balloons and streamers littered the sky above his head, and everything was lit with a red-orange glow, skulls carved into the bone white torch shafts.

But Light was more interested in the people. Especially the performers mingling with the crowds. He spotted a boy with amazingly red hair being led around on a leash, arms bound behind his back, and a man with glasses and the faded remains of a suit wearing large metal devices on his hands and wrists. They looked painful, but he didn't seem to notice. Light frowned, turning towards the main tent and widening auburn eyes. Two figures stood out front, but their bodies appeared…distorted. Their limbs were too long, each easily the whole of Light's height,. The male of the two, an albino dressed in a white suit, was holding the hand of a woman with ash blond hair. They towered over Light easily by several feet, and it took him a few seconds to realize they were up on stilts. That was why they appeared so strange.

Easily ignored, but not forgotten, the brunette started walking towards the big tent and the stilted couple, nearly missing the figure that watched him from the shadows. Nearly.

He was dark haired and had skin the color of a corpse, though he was clearly alive. He moved out of the darkness, black fingernails scraping across the tent. Light honestly thought they more resembled claws. There was that same something that called to him, but at the same time…..this one was dangerous. And the brunette was no fool. Wary, he watched the man who was scarily tall, even without the aid of stilts, shuddering when he came slinking towards the tent. A cold sank through the teen's flesh, chilling him to the very bone. He shivered, and it must have pleased the man, for he fixated him with eyes that couldn't be natural. Contacts, surely. No one _really _had eyes the shade of freshly spilt blood, or fire as it burnt down into smoldering coals. It wasn't possible for human eyes to be so-alive either. As cold as his flesh was, the male's irises were a complete opposite. Hot and wild, they burned Light to the core, threatening even to consume him whole if he stared too long.

Wary enough to take a step back, the teen watched the raven haired man breeze past him, and there was a heart stopping moment where red met caramel, and that pale mouth spread wide in a vicious slash, filled to the brim with pointed teeth better belonging to a wolf. The man leered, perhaps knowing Light's thoughts, and he went into the tent. Up above, the stilted companions looked at Light, and he them. They were waiting for him. He was the last of the crowd to be heading into the tent before the show started. Light hesitated, for good reason, He had just seen a worthy adversary for any Shinigami go in there. There was no delaying the inevitable though. He'd come here to see the show, satiate his curiosity. If he turned back now, then he knew he'd never forgive himself. Nor would his mind, which craved any new stimuli it could get.

Drums thrumming inside the tent signified the show's start. Light glanced behind him, back the way he'd came, and reminded himself that there was no turning back now. He wouldn't allow himself. Therefore, he fixed his shirt and quietly entered the tent, glimpsing the two performers outside give each other looks, and the vision of gaping jowls with glistening teeth forever framed in his mind.

_A Dresden doll, half broken….. _

_The star, her chords paralyzed….. _

_A puppet on the Ringmaster's arm….._

_She cries and screams, but nobody comes….._

It wasn't hard to find a seat. There were several in the back row, and a few up front. Light, already tentative after seeing the strange male, was tempted to climb the stairs and sit in the back, as his instincts told him to do. He was an intelligent man though, and wasn't about to let paranoia get in the way of a new experience. He met himself halfway, choosing a seat near the middle of the bleachers just as the spotlights flared, illuminating the center of the dark arena. At first the glare blinded the audience, Light included, but he focused and quickly spotted the brunette from before. He was standing in the white glow, eyes downcast, and a sudden epiphany struck the teen. This was the ringmaster!

He hadn't been able to tell outside, since it was dark, but here in the light it was made clear. The man was dressed as a traditional ringmaster might, sporting striped trousers and a coat with tails. It was as white as his skin, with black detailing on the shoulders that resembled his claws. He wore a smart red waistcoat with silver and gold embroidery, and a black shirt with ruffles and a jeweled pin at his throat. The outfit seemed quite normal in appearance, until Light noticed the florescent hued flowers sewn onto patches of the cloth. Pink, green, blue; they even decorated the man's top hat and the scarf wrapped around his waist. Light thought it was weird. What was stranger were the red splatters mingled in with the flowers. Was that supposed to be blood? With a name like Madman's Circus, he wouldn't have been surprised.

It made his stomach writhe however, and the teen stilled in his seat, the breath leaving his lungs in a soft burst as the ringmaster lifted his head. Not quickly though. Inch by creeping inch, until his Cheshire grin was bared once more, and those lewd eyes that Light swore could see into the depths of his soul. Those very orbs perused the crowd in thoughtful contemplation, falling on Light after a moment and lingering, drinking him in. Light stared back, unable to look away. This must have pleased the man, for he laughed and swung an arm out, claw tipped fingers splayed open in delight.

"Welcome, honored guests! I see that we have a lovely audience tonight." Again he looked at Light, and he swore that those lips curved just a little bit higher in the corners. "Perfect. I hate not having the pick of the crop to choose from." A snake like tongue brushed across his teeth, and he made that dry sounding laugh once more, withdrawing a cane from behind his back and stabbing it, point first, into the ground. The whole crowd jumped, tittering with amusement and anxiousness. Apparently Light wasn't the only one who found the ringmaster unnerving. "I hope you all didn't come here expecting a normal circus," he crooned, stroking the ornate metal of his cane. Light noticed the top was shaped into an abstract B. "Because here?" Ruby irises gleamed, a canine flashing in the spotlight. "You won't find it. Here, we're all madmen. Some of us just haven't realized it yet."

Strange, but those words gave the brunette more reason to feel nervous than anything else.

If the ringmaster had more to say, he didn't show it. Instead he snapped two of those spidery fingers, and a woman came out of the shadows. Light recognized her as the flier girl from earlier in the day. But instead of papers, this time she was pushing a cage on wheels, which rattled across the tent's makeshift wooden floor until it joined the man in his spotlight. The crowd looked on eagerly, a feeling that was, hesitantly, shared by Light. And damn if the fang toothed male didn't recognize it, for his gaze once again solely belonged to the brunette as he drew the cage's protective sheet off, revealing its contents. A girl…or was it a boy? They sat on their haunches and had legs sprawled out on the cold metal floor, their only protection stained stockings and black Mary Jane's. They also wore a dress, a patch-work affair that was pale blue and had the same flowers sewn on it as the ones decorating the ringmaster's jacket and top hat. The clothes immediately made Light think girl, but there was a nagging suspicion in his gut that told him that it was a boy merely being dressed as a girl for the crowd's entertainment.

Yet there was still more to the caged one than was visible to the naked eye. Leaning off his seat, Light had to control himself as he saw the boy's face. It was riddled with hideous scars. They marred the whole right half of his face, webbing the pale skin with vicious looking cracks. And the blooms extended upward, blossoming from the scars as if they were soil, not human flesh. Honestly, Light had no idea how they were staying there. Latex? A mild sort of glue? He seemed to be the only one considering the logistics behind it though. Everyone else gasped and cried out in shock, pointing fingers at the cage and the boy inside. The brunette couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. Those scars, if real, had to have been damn painful to receive. They looked bad too. Third degree. He was surprised the boy was alive, much less functioning.

"Let me introduce our first star of the night," the ringmaster drew their attention back to him, coattails glittering as he waltzed over to the cage. "This poor little wretch crawled out of the depths of Hell itself in an attempt to escape his failings. And he has the marks to prove it." Pale fingers reached through the bars, pinching a lank piece of golden hair and lifting it up to better show off the boy's scars. The crowd gasped even louder than before. Light, also looking at the blond, glanced to the ringmaster and saw the pleasure in his eyes. He was….excited by their reactions. And seemed interested in the teen's specifically.

A ratty looking redheaded boy appeared out of the wings, and he quietly joined the ringmaster in his spotlight, offering a ring of keys that jingled like bones. Light noticed that the boy looked malnourished, and his eyes, while a lovely shade of green, were gaunt, as if he never slept. But he didn't get much more of a chance to observe him. The boy scampered out of the ring, though not before giving the blond in the cage a long look. Frowning, Light tried to make sense of that, and was still confused when the performer crumpled to the floor outside his cage, blue eyes gazing up at the crowds and staring, unblinking. It was more than eerie. Where the ringmaster had a gaze that could electrify the blood, this one chilled him to the very pits of his soul. Forget eerie. It was downright disturbing. And those scars and gravity defying blossoms weren't helping.

"Tut tut." Skeletal fingers clasped the boy's chin, turning his face up. "The poor thing. He fought so hard against his fate. He just didn't know any better then. But he certainly does now." Smiling like a demon, the man on stage jerked his so called "star" to his feet and made him gasp, though not an ounce of pain showed on his two halved face. "You don't make a deal with the devil and come away unscathed."

"Everyone has to pay their dues." Light mumbled, and then started. Had he really just agreed with that man?

…..in a twisted, roundabout sort of way, he was sure he had.

Whether or not the man had heard him was unclear, but the teen was certain that those ruby irises looked him over again before turning back to his captive, hands starting a caress of his silky hair that came off to Light as a master preening his pet. "Well now. I think it's high time that our little Dresden doll went to play. Don't you all?" He didn't wait for a reply. The ringmaster picked up the boy, taking a moment to fix his little apron and the pleats of his dress, and then carried him towards the stands, literally out of the arena. There was a horrifying moment where Light and the ringmaster were mere feet away, only the seats offering any barrier between them, and then he was walking up the connecting staircase, still carting that hideous doll….boy. "He just loves having company. Our cast often times gets very lonely, uprooted as we are from the rest of the world, so I like to encourage a healthy interaction with the audience. It makes things more interesting."

No…nonono. Light screamed the word inside his head, but there was nothing he could do. That devil of a man entered his row and, after pretending to peruse the available seats, lowered the doll dressed blond into the seat directly beside him. "His name is Mellylocks," he crooned, patting the boy's cheek. "He's our precious Dresden doll. The most rare of all you know."

Was he supposed to say something? Light itched to cry out, retaliate. He didn't want that creepy looking boy sitting next to him! Even now he could feel those cold eyes gouging holes into his skull, that broken face bland, yet disturbing too. "I…." biting his tongue, Light forced a pleasant smile onto his face, meeting the ringmaster's stare and, somehow, managing not to flinch. He refused to make a mockery of himself in front of the entire crowd. And their eyes were all on him, so he couldn't take any chances. "He….certainly is a sight to behold. You must be very proud." Disgusted, Light lifted his hand and, with the whole crowd watching, pat the blond on his curly head. "You couldn't ask for a better doll than…ahh-Mellylocks."

The "doll" didn't respond, save for looking up at the red eyed man towering over them both and frowning. "….My name isn't Mellylocks. And his name is B." He pointed at the ringmaster, expectantly turning to Light and placing his hand back in his lap. "If you call him Ringmaster, that'll make him happy. We don't like him to be happy. He doesn't deserve it. So I call him B. That's his real name."

Light felt his mouth tumble open in a stunned look, which was incorrectly mirrored by the ringmaster-B's smile and laugh. "He's usually a very good boy, but he does have his temperamental moments. I promise though, he's not violent. And if he misbehaves, feel free to berate him." His smile turned cold, a bone thin finger coming up to explore the blond's scarred cheek, running over the ridges and the flowers that Light still remained mystified by. How did they stay on? "Better yet, ask him how he got his scars. That always shuts him up. After all, you know what they say. A chatty boy is a naughty boy," B sing songed, waltzing back down the stairs and back into the arena before the teenager had any chance to argue. Those raspy tones were still burning in Light's ears when he finally came to his senses, and he scooted to the far side of his seat, avoiding contact with the blond haired boy, ah….Mellylocks. He'd said that that wasn't his real name, but he had nothing else to call him. Besides, a spooky nickname was more than appropriate in this case. He was at a circus run by a fang toothed ringmaster with red eyes, and his stars were people with disturbing afflictions. Yes, Mellylocks seemed just fine for use here.

Everyone was looking at Light and his company. He heard several people behind him chatting about it, many commenting on how disturbing this all was. Light couldn't help but agree. But those people didn't have a cross-dressing boy sitting beside them, much less one covered in burns that looked raw, as if they were constantly picked at. If anyone had a right to feel uncomfortable, it was him! "It's all part of the show," he muttered, fisting his hands and looking at the spotlighted arena. "It's just harmless entertainment…"

"If you really think that, then you're an idiot," Mellylocks retorted. Light gaped at him, and that frigid, glassy stare turned his way, unblinking and colder than glacial ice. "You heard what B said."

"What? What are you talking about?"

He didn't respond. Indeed, his attention had turned back to the show. Surprised, Light stared a moment longer, half wondering if that was all part of their act; sending a cast member up into the stands, letting him rile the crowd into a state of anxiety and fear. It would make sense. And with a crazy ringmaster like B controlling the show….he shivered, fixing the hem of his shirt and struggling to get comfortable. Things had only just gotten started, hadn't they?

A master of performing and creating tension, B waited until the crowd had effectively settled down before lifting his cane, the silver glinting weakly under the lights. That must've been some sort of cue to the other performers, because all at once the arena took on a ruddy glow, like the air itself had been dipped in blood. Light grimaced, watching his clothes bleed red. He used to like that color. After the show, he was going to go home and burn anything in his wardrobe containing it.

Red deepened, mingled with a few black lights, save for a single white spotlight resting on the solitary figure standing proud in the ring. "I think it's time that we continue the show…" and the ringmaster smirked, a fang curling over his bottom lip. "In a lifetime, there only comes one or two special souls amongst the millions of others. They are the reason humanity exists. They could do _anything_, if inspired enough. But their talents so often go unnoticed. People celebrate mediocrity, and the mundane. The unusual are cast aside, left to be forgotten in their own personal hells. So these poor fools hide themselves, choosing to remain unseen, never knowing just how special they are. But not here. Never here." B pointed his staff towards the left, and the tent seemed to part, a cloak of darkness beyond. "We don't hide. We embrace our true natures, and welcome the unusual! And when we find one of those rare souls that embody what we adore most.."

He paused, garnet eyes raping the crowd. Each and every attendee shuddered, all save for Light. He froze, horror blotting out any sense of disgust, B's gaze painfully cruel as it swept over him from head to toe. "…_when _we find them," he crooned, stroking pale lips with the tip of his tongue. "We TAKE them. And we never let them go."

That feeling of horror spread throughout his entire body. Light pressed back into his seat, gripping the arms tightly between tawny fingers. Special souls? True natures? Never let them go? What the hell was he talking about? This ringmaster-he was freaking insane. Only a freak would say something creepy like that. "What's going on," he whispered, heart pounding as he watched B strut across the arena and reach into the darkness beyond the tent, his clawed hand vanishing inside the black. "This is pretty strange for a circus…"

"This isn't a circus. Not the kind you're thinking of anyway." His head never turned, but Light had the distinct feeling that Mellylocks was staring at him. "Did you really think it was?"

Light didn't have his chance to answer. The ringmaster had his prize, and he was returning to the center stage. But what he pulled behind him, all set up in a rusted out wagon with a handle decorated with colorful streamers, was far more curious and revolting than the flower encrusted wretch sitting beside him. Resting in the wagon was a pole that stretched nearly six feet high. It was thick, made of a sturdy looking wood, and it was splattered from top to bottom in congealed patches of black and red. Many resembled blood, but others….burns? Something about it all reminded the brunette of the stakes that witches had once been burned out. There were metal rings attached to the top of the pole, chains threaded through the holes and wrapping all around the wood, clinking and rustling forebodingly. "What…?"

B's mouth was twisted into another of its hideous grins. "Of course, while we cherish those special few who belong with our little family, there are those that we just can't stand." The wagon groaned, tugged behind him. "Naysayer's. Corruptors. Those millions of others who try to destroy any speck of originality in the world. You know the type." He stopped at the arena's center, still holding the handle tightly in his hand. Light suddenly got a strange feeling. "There are plenty of them out there, and we try so hard to ignore them! But sometimes they flap those poison tongues just a bit too much. That's when we have to fight back. To protect our special ones, our precious souls. I'm sure you understand."

Strangely enough, Light thought he did. There was never any harm in protecting something important to you. But there was a difference between what B was talking about, and the type of protection Light valued. Justice. Following the law. Protecting the innocents from the wicked. He had no doubt these concepts were lost to the ringmaster. Still though….he understood where the man was coming from. That terrified him more than anything else he'd seen so far. "But what do you do with them…those people who hate you?"

He wondered out loud, surely not loud enough for the man below to hear. Yet it seemed he did, and B smiled, a horrible glint in his eyes. "I have one of those people here. She spent her whole life believing she was special. Prettier, smarter; a real gem. Ha!" His laugh rang through the tent, dry and insane. "She ridiculed those beneath her. She made it her mission to flaunt herself amongst those she deemed inferior, spouting bits of intelligence like they were some priceless symphony! Ah, but she made a mistake. She came here, to MY circus, and tried to say that we had no right existing." He positively leered at the crowd, leaning forward. "She said we were sinners. _Murderers_. Well, I say that she was the murderer! She killed the souls of all those around her, with no hint of pity for her crimes. Like some kind of siren, she sang her little songs of superiority and lies, the bitch. And if you were useful, she'd leech off you like a fucking parasite, sucking away at your very spirit. She'd steal your light…"

Steal your light…..the teenager frowned, nervously wetting his lips. Mellylocks said nothing beside him, but Light noticed a cold look in his eyes. Maybe he hated the ringmaster, but he obviously felt no pity for the woman B was talking about. Honestly, Light wasn't too sure if she would either. He loathed girls like that. They thought they were queens, and everyone had to wait on them hand and foot. He'd seen plenty at school, and they all seemed to latch on to him, craving his presence, and eager to use his charm and appeal for their own purposes. No, he felt no pity.

The wagon wheels gave another loud creak, and B dropped the handle, facing the crowd and sneering. "Would you like to see, my dear guests? Would you like to see what we do to little sirens?" He kicked the wagon, making it spiral around and display the other side. "Here! Get an eyeful!"

"…"

"Oh my GOD!"

The pole wasn't just a pole. His mind had supplied the connection to the past earlier, and now kept his terror fueled while Light stared at the woman chained to the wood with rusted manacles, blood seeping down her too pale arms. He registered the people around him screaming; some were even too stunned to utter more than choked sounding cries. All appeared deaf to him though, just as they likely did her. The performer, or was it a prisoner, was a monstrosity of bruises and bandages, the latter covering her face and arm from neck to wrist. A dark blue orb peeked out from the cotton, but that was all he could see that even bespoke of a real human living under the damage. It looked on in horror, growing wider and wider as the ringmaster circled her, his staff scraping across the floor. His spider like fingers swept across her throat, and the ring of metal cinched tightly around it. It almost resembled a collar, and Light was sure that's what it was-save for the thin, needle like probes coming out of it. Actually, the longer he thought on it, they more resembled-crochet needles. Or something similar. But what on earth were they for?

B's fingers pinched one of the needles, thumb running down the gleaming metal. "This witch had the gall to insult us here at this circus. That's what her kind does. They lie and sneak, and when they don't get what they want-" he smirked at her, and Light swore he saw the woman shudder, fight against her bonds. "I guess it hardly matters now. I gave her the punishment that was long overdue. A lifetime of misery, just like the ones she forced upon others. Isn't that right, my poor little songstress?" He gave the metal a sharp tug, and the woman responded with a muffled scream. How Light could hear her was a mystery, since her face was shrouded with bandages. But he did, and the sounds echoed in his ears. "Sing for us, dear songstress! Let the people hear what happens to those who try and condemn this circus, my performers." B leaned down and hissed by her ear, though his eyes never left the crowd. "Show them what happens when someone tries to take away what's mine…."

Light watched on in shock as he roughly turned the needle to the right. The bound woman seemed stupefied for a moment, and then a terrible shriek filled the air, wavering through the bloody light with a terrible ease. B laughed, giving her device's key, for that was all the brunette could relate it to, another vicious twist before sashaying away from the wagon, leaving her there to scream and cry bitter tears that smeared her makeup into razor thin trails of black liner. "That's-inhuman," he whispered, tasting bile on his tongue. Even if she was one of those manipulative women he'd always frowned upon, that was no reason to treat her so cruelly! She was in pain, and had clearly been tortured by the ringmaster, maybe even his entire circus! That was just….wrong. The ends did not justify the means!

….or did they?

What was that saying? Do unto others as you would have done unto you? Light had always found such an idea appropriate, at least in the world of criminals. Murderers; rapists; they deserved nothing short of death. So why couldn't that apply everywhere else too? A person who gives another nothing but suffering should surely receive the same. It was only fair. Light gnawed the corner of his lip, sparing the ringmaster a quick, cursory glance. He _did _say that the woman had all but verbally attacked them…..her intentions were nothing but malicious, surely. She deserved to be-

Grimacing, he gave himself a mental smack. He couldn't believe such a twisted thought had crossed his mind! No one deserved to suffer like this woman clearly had! What had she really done to deserve such vicious treatment? Manipulate a few people? Lie, cheat? Everyone did that. It was just a fact of life. And even if she had said some terrible things to the performers and their ringmaster, that wasn't reason enough for this-this torture! Not by a long shot! B was just using all those as excuses to get his kicks, Light was sure. The man was probably psychotic. He certainly looked the part, with that eerie smile and too red eyes.

Wasn't that the point though? Unsure, the teen drummed his fingers and pondered the woman again. All of those wounds, the cuts and bruises…they could be nothing more than cleverly used makeup. Yes, that was it! Why hadn't he thought of it before. This was a circus. Everyone had a part to play. The stilt walkers outside, Mellylocks, The ringmaster. They were all just playing a role. It was part of the fun! Sure, their respective parts were rather…unsettling, but Light couldn't be too surprised. This was the _Madman's _Circus, after all. Everyone was supposed to be a little mad. Hence the disturbing attractions, and the ringmaster's attempts to drive them into screams. He was simply doing his job, making sure they got their money's worth. If that meant portraying a psychotic ringmaster who liked to fuck with people, then so be it.

Light nodded, trying to assure himself. A logical deduction. It was all perfect….except for one thing.

Those eyes….the man's hideous, abnormally red eyes. They couldn't be real. The color could be faked, but what about the madness? The hatred and loathing? The intrigue he'd seen, when he first entered the circus grounds? There was too much in those bloody depths and the desire Light had seen-it was raw, encompassing. Too many emotions, so much need. No human, no MAN, could have eyes like that. They belonged to a freak. A madman….

Ignorant of the thoughts his guest was having, B took his hand and ran it through the woman's hair, head cocked to the side in mocking wonder. "You all look so serious," he laughed under his breath. Serious? The entire crowd looked as if they might throw up. Light felt their pain. "Did you forget that it's all just a show? My my, so quick to assume the worst of us. Surely you didn't think we would really torture a poor, innocent woman? " Moving away from the wagon, he brushed a fleck of dust off his coat and idly twirled his staff, the B winking and drawing the people's eyes away from the woman as she was drawn back offstage by the same red haired boy that had towed Mellylocks' cage. Light was the only one that noticed, just as he was the only one to hear her final scream before she vanished into the blackness, a colorful curtain falling over the archway that led only god knows where.

He should've felt more at ease with her gone, but he didn't. Act or not, those cries would haunt him for a good while to come. And if they didn't, then the ringmaster surely would. "I wonder what he has planned next." Uncertain, the brunette looked at his…companion, but Mellylocks simply returned his stare and said nothing, hands folded neatly on the lap of his dress. "…..what is the ringmaster going to do now," he tried again, and the re-wording seemed to spark something in the blond's icy blues. Perhaps he was only supposed to respond to a certain question? Light knew all too well that wording was very important, especially in sensitive situations. This was hardly a courtroom or jailhouse, but the principle was the same. "Well?"

Mellylocks stared at him for a few more unsettling moments, never blinking, only watching, then he rose from his seat and drew everyone's attention. Including B's. "You're a monster." Walking down the steps that lead back into the tent's pit, the little blond went to the ringmaster's side and looked up at him, and for the first time the whole night, Light saw a flicker of emotion on his scarred face. Loathing. "Quit scaring them needlessly and get it over with. They came here to see the attractions, not listen to you rant all night. I know you don't care about all these people anyway. You just want your special someone. But if you wait too long, you won't even have that. So hurry up and get them out of here. You're wasting everyone's time."

Confusion clouded the auburn eyes watching the blond from his seat, and Light's frown deepened ever so slightly. What was he talking about? A ringmaster was supposed to entertain a crowd. Why was Mellylocks encouraging them to leave?

B smiled and toyed with a golden curl framing the boy's face, earning him a disgusted look. "So impatient. You know, a good piece of china is the kind that sits on its shelf and looks pretty, and gets used when it's needed. But more importantly, it's seen, but never _heard_." The last was hissed, and everyone shuddered. The sound far more resembled a snake than anything human. "If you really feel the need though, then by all means. LEAVE." Wearing a cruel smile that showed his teeth, he caressed one of the flowers decorating Mellylocks' scars and then shoved him away. "Go back to your cell and wait for them there. Feed the mutt while you're at it. But the show must go on, even if you've decided to be a spoilsport."

Mellylocks glared at him, wasting no time and quickly leaving the tent. Contrary to what he would've thought, Light felt more uncomfortable when he left, and he fought desperately to keep himself from getting too flustered and anxious. It failed though, and just when he thought B was done with his little speech, that smile was turned onto the crowd, a horrible look fixated on each and every individual before it landed on the handsome brunette. "No worries though, my dear. I was only going to everyone my puppet before letting them go. She can keep everyone company while they explore!" His smile grew toothier, teeth sharp and glimmering. While he was sure that the words were supposed to sound as if they were directed at Mellylocks, Light had the distinct feeling that that was only a ruse. "In fact, I think I see her now." A ragged fingernail painted black as squid blood pointed to the stands below him, and B laughed. "What a naughty puppet you've been! You weren't hiding from our guests, were you? Come, get down from there! I'm sure everyone's just dying for a good look at you…"

….what? But-but he'd seen the stands coming in! There was nothing there. The whole row of bleachers in front of him was empty. No one was comfortable with the notion of sitting that close to the ringmaster, a fact that didn't surprise Light at all. Yet B acted as if someone was there. And someone was.

Before everyone's eyes, the metal shook, rattled, as if something were gripping it to pull themselves up. One by one, fingers crept over the railing and splayed out, nails scratching and pinching, the tips dark with dried gore. If Light had felt horrified at the arrival of the songstress, then this…this must be what a journey into hell would feel like. He couldn't turn his eyes away though. All he could do was watch as a girl rose up from the bleachers, lank blond hair hanging all in her face, two pigtails jutting out from the sides of her skull and tied with flowery black ribbons. She was terrifying to look at. Her black dress long faded to a dingy grey, the corset ratty and stockings stained with blood. He imagined it was blood anyway. There was a bandage wrapped around her eyes, streaks of red long dried on her cheeks and throat. Even with the covering, Light got the basic idea.

Her eyes-they'd been ripped out.

"Come here darling," the ringmaster held out his hand, beckoning with a claw. Slowly, like she might fall over any second, the girl walked down the steps. She only stopped for a moment, turning her head around and listening to the crowd's shocked exclamations. Light gaped at her, listening to the _clink_, _**clink **_as she walked towards B, the sleeves of her dress hanging to the floor and mingling with a string of chains that ended in padlocks locked around her upper arms. "A lovely puppet, don't you think? She was a true diamond in the rough. Hunted down like an animal, and wanted by many-why, we were lucky to sink our claws into her!" Taking one of the chains in his hand, B yanked her to the floor, where she sat, never moving. A motionless doll ready to do his bidding. Light was horrified. "Unfortunately, by the time we found her, the damage was done. She'd seen too much….such terrible things. I couldn't let her suffer." His fingernail scraped up the gaunt hollow of her cheek, tracing the area around her eye. He didn't need to say any more. The point was made, and everyone understood. Especially Light.

"He took her eyes…." choking down his disgust, the teen shuddered, rising from his seat. He didn't care if it was all part of the show, or that he swore to give it all a chance. This was too much. He wasn't staying here a moment longer!

His gesture was joined by dozens of others. Many of the crowd appeared impatient, like Mellylocks had said, but there were those that seemed frightened and, like him, wanted nothing more than to leave. They didn't go unnoticed though, as B let out one of his fearful laughs and pointed his staff at them, still holding the chains of his 'puppet' in his other hand. "Are you that desperate to get on with things? What a shame. Seems our dear Dresden doll wasn't lying. You all really are an impatient crowd. Some of the worst I've ever seen." He never lost his smile, but a degree of frostiness clung to it now. Light felt chilled to the bone when the ringmaster turned to face him, locking his body into place on the final step of the stairs. "Fine. If you must go, then feel free! But I insist that some of you remain behind and stay with us a little bit longer. We haven't even had our customary welcome dance!"

Dance? A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Light vocalized what they all were wondering. "What dance? Since when does a circus host a dance?"

B smiled and waited for their questions to die, clearly pleased. He held the girl's chains tighter, tossing his staff to the side. It fell to the floor, quickly forgotten, but seemed to be another strange cue that this hell of a circus had arranged. "This isn't an ordinary circus," he cooed, and Light finished the sentence, the words of Mellylocks floating through his head.

'_If you really think that, then you're an idiot….'_

"Did you really think it was?"

Music muffled Light's voice, and he jumped, startled, glancing around the tent and trying to see where it'd come from. There was no telling. The song seemed to flow in from everywhere at once, seeping through the bright red fabric and mingling with the air. Disturbing and slow, the chords thrummed with a beat that encouraged you to move. It stifled, pressed against his skin, and he rubbed his arms frantically to rid himself of the clammy sensation. Sadly it didn't work, and the feeling only grew worse as the ringmaster snapped his fingers, taking the girl into a firm hold. "Come! Join us in a dance! Then feel free to peruse our home to your heart's content. I promise, you won't be disappointed." He laughed and waltzed away, the sound of clinking chains lost in the whirlwind of music and laughter as a few couples joined the two performers on the stage, amused at the ringmaster's antics. They thought it all a game. Something fun to take part in, until they got bored anyway.

Light didn't share their opinion. He forced his body to move and hurried out of the stands, looking for an exit in a way that was practically panicked. All around him he could hear laughter and cries as the people began to dance, the ringmaster's form becoming lost in the crowds. So too was he swept up in the action, red lights flickering and threatening to go out completely, making everything far more eerie than he was comfortable with. "This is insane," he cried, pushing past a smiling couple and nearly getting thrown to the floor. Stumbling, he caught himself on a swatch of fabric that was grey, stained, and studded with flowers, the skirt splattered with blood and sleeves dragging across the floor, almost completely hiding the chains that weighed her every move.

"…" gulping, he swallowed his terror and looked the girl head on. She didn't smile or speak, but simply took his hands and drew them deep into the throng of people swaying to the music.

_Abandoned to this life that mocks my very name…. _

_My once beautiful face…_

_I see no more, he holds my eyes and strings…_

_Yet I know, death isn't near….._

"Let me go. Let me go right now!" He gripped her hands to the point where any harder would've surely broken her bones, she was so frail. His orders went unnoticed though. Holding tightly to his shoulders, the sharp pinprick of nails eating through his clothes, Light was forcefully swirled through the crowds and led into a parody of a waltz, much like the one she and the ringmaster had been performing. Where theirs had had a semblance of grace though, his was macabre. Horrific. The puppet's limbs and chains creaked in harmony, and her sightless face seemed frozen into a mask of blank wonder. He imagined her staring at him under her blindfold, and her gaze was like B's; bloody, too dark to be truly human. Light's spine crawled, but he couldn't escape her hold, try as he might. She was far stronger than he…..and frankly, even if she weren't, he was sure his terror would've kept him from running away anyway. It had frozen him on the stairs, and now it made his body no better than hers. A puppet to be lead around on unbreakable strings, the ends looped around spider fingers the color of death. The ringmaster's fingers.

"Do you understand yet?"

"W-what?" She spoke. Light forced himself to recognize that, rather than believe that the voice had come out of nowhere. The man's puppet had spoken, and she was pressing close to him, breathing the same air as he. Up close, he could see the flowers dotting her cheeks and forehead, and the red that splotched her binding. "What did you say?"

They were swept to the side by another couple. He noticed a few of the cast mingled in with the actual attendees, and their faces were garish, colored with makeup and streaked with flower petals. "Do you understand," she breathed in a raspy sounding voice, but one that was still beautiful. Oddly fitting, considering her ruined features. "You came to the wrong place…you should've left when you had a chance. If you stay any longer, this circus will be your tomb." A tear slipped down her cheek. In the light, it was tainted red. "Just like it's mine."

Tomb. TOMB. The word echoed in his head, booming like thunder. "..no!" Light gasped, finding the strength to wrench himself away from the girl. She looked on in sorrow, or he imagined it was sorrow, since her eyes gave nothing away. "That's it, you've taken this too far! I don't care if this is a circus! You have no right scaring people like this!" By people, he meant me. He was terrified. "I demand you show me the way out, right now! I won't be a part of this any longer! Do you hear me? I won't!"

She heard. No one else did. "It doesn't matter anymore….." taking a step back, the throngs never touching her battered skin, the girl lifted her hands and cupped the sides of her head. It was a gesture of pain, fear. He'd seen it often from victims of abuse, or those subjugated to torture. They acted just like her. "There's no time. He's already chosen. He chose the moment you arrived." Her lips curled into a sad smile. "It's ok…..you're special. He won't hurt you. He won't treat you like he does us. We weren't special. We were just leftovers, things for him to feast off of. But you-" she lifted one of her hands, the sleeve wafting in an invisible breeze. Light gaped at it, feeling the brush of cloth against his back as a couple danced by. "Please…let me see? I have to see you, just once….before he takes you…please, let me see.."

Before he could stop her, the girl unknotted her blindfold. And Light screamed. He just kept on screaming as she approached him, her empty black sockets locked on his face. They were smeared with liner and eyeshadow, but the framework was useless dressing. She had no eyes. She had no fucking eyes!

"No! Get away! Get away from me!" He fell in his haste to get away, knees scraping against the floor. Picking himself up so fast that his pants were torn, Light ran away from the blond and kept screaming, the horrible sight of her eyeless face forever locked in his mind. No eyes, no eyes-how was that even possible! Could you replicate a thing like that with makeup? Surely there was a way, but hers were real. No makeup could look that hollow, that disgustingly lifeless! It just wasn't possible! "Help! Someone help me!" Light pushed past a couple, and almost stopped them, ready to beg for assistance, but there was something wrong. The people…they were all gone! Performers had taken the place of everyone who'd been dancing in the tent, and they all laughed and swirled around him, blocking any way out.

"Come….won't you dance with us?" Whisper soft, they spoke to him, beckoning with their painted hands. "Come…come dance! It's all part of the circus…" they made to grab him, and out of the darkness he saw a set of fingernails coming towards him, wavering seductively. Black as night, with razor tips. The ringmaster. "Come on Light," he heard his voice croon from the red, dark and sultry and with a creepy allure. "I told you, we cherish those who are special….won't you let us cherish you?"

His mind jumped to Mellylocks, the puppet, and he gave a loud scream. "G-get away from me!" He lashed out, knocking the claws away with his hand and earning a small laugh before they faded back into the red.

"Run and hide, run and hide…we will always find you. This is my circus…there's no escape from me."

Like hell there isn't! Heart pounding, Light whirled away and took off through the throng of people, ignoring the laughter that sang wicked songs in his ears. What was going on? This wasn't how things were supposed to be! This was just supposed to be another stupid circus! These kind of things only happened in horror movies, or the demented fairy tales his sister liked to read when she was younger. None of it was real! It couldn't be! They-they were just trying to scare him. All part of the show…Light heard himself whimper, the staccato of his heartbeat growing louder and louder as he ran across the tent, slamming through the flap that Mellylocks and the tortured woman had vanished through. No one followed, but their laughter kept going. He tried his vainest to block it out as he felt around in the darkness, reaching for anything that might aid him to his freedom. Nothing…nothing….icy cold, wet….the contour of lips, cheeks, a rasp of worn and bloodied bandages-

He didn't need to know. The brush of metal against his arms said it all.

_Tied and bound, I watch the show….._

_The keys click and tighten my cords….. _

_Is there no hope….? Or is this fate….._

_I hear his laugh echoing clear….._

He couldn't see her, but his hands came up and were suddenly pressed to the curve of a thigh, a woman's breast. In the dark he could hear soft breathing, the only thing that really told Light that the woman was alive, when she honestly appeared quite dead. "Oh God," he whispered, fearful someone would hear. But what did it matter? They all knew he was in here. The exit had vanished, leaving only this-this room, and its horrible contents. Light shook, looking around and trying to adjust to the blackness that seemed tangible, pressing in on him from all sides. Above him the woman continued to breathe, the only real sounds she could make. Ironic, considering her so called songstress title.

"Ah, but wasn't that the point?" Laughing, Light ran a hand through his hair, hysterical tears coloring his eyes. "She can still scream." That was music enough for the ringmaster. Endless nights of pained cries, screams that ripped apart the night with their fear. He'd imagined them many a long day of class, picturing their hosts as they fought against the justice system and its immoral acts. Only the pained and tormented made such terrifying cries. "Please," he took a step forward, his hand sliding from the woman's thigh and touching the wood beneath her. He wasn't sure what the please was for. Did he want her to save him? That was impossible. She was even more of a prisoner than he was. Bound and chained, locked in a shell of a body….Light trembled, wishing he could vanish from this place. He shouldn't have come. This place…it was hell on earth. Only demons and monsters lived here. And their king, the one who ruled all things wicked and spiteful. He was waiting in the foreground, eager to claim his prize. Like some wicked witch, or the wolf with his jaws opened wide, Light knew he could come swooping in at any moment and gobble him up.

Behind him the tent opened up, long shadows washing over Light's body and illuminating the woman above him. She looked even more wretched now, bruises marring every bit of creamy flesh. They even extended up into her hairline. Light felt more pity for her than he'd ever thought possible. She was supposedly deserving, but this….no, it was wrong. She didn't deserve it. None of them did!

"_We weren't special. We were just leftovers, things for him to feast off of. But you…."_

"_You just want your special someone. But if you wait too long, you won't even have that. So hurry up and get them out of here. You're wasting everyone's time…." _

Light's fingers curled into claws against the wood, and he trembled as footsteps rang behind him. They were coming, weren't they? They were coming to take him away. To the man. Him. "The ringmaster," he said in a hollow voice, a set of hands brushing down his shoulders. Fearful, he lifted his head and met the beautiful eye of the songstress, wishing he could lose himself in that sapphire blue. It wasn't possible. "He only likes special souls…."

"He craves them," a voice answered back. "That's why we're here. To help him find someone he can share his madness with. We have no other purpose."

_It burns, it hurts, my flesh is cracked….. _

_So fragile with this body am I…_

_Yet I stand before the crowds and smile…._

_Just a worthless, broken doll…._

Light glimpsed flowers and baby blue fabric out of the corner of his eye. "His existence is a lonely one. He deserves it, but…" pausing, Mellylocks stepped out of the shadows to his left, his cracked and scarred face dark. Foreboding. "He doesn't care who he hurts, or how his madness affects others. All he cares about is himself, and finding his 'special someone'." He scoffed, glancing at the woman before them, taking time to glance over her bandaged face. "All of us-we used to be happy. Then he took over, and nothing was ever the same. B destroyed us, made us into the monsters you've been watching all night."

"….but why?" Shaking his head, the teen frowned, disbelieving. "What kind of monster could do a thing like that?"

He knew the answer even before Mellylocks said anything. "Weren't you listening? He made us what we are! Him! That monster you all call a ringmaster." His voice radiated a bitterness never soothed. "B took the circus, our home, and he fucking destroyed it! One by one he cut us down, doing horrible things," here he lifted his fingers, touching the scar and flowers on his cheek. "He burned me, and did…something to my friend…..his mind, it's all screwed up. I don't-there's nothing I can do. I've tried so many times to get through to him, but nothing ever works. He, he," blue eyes swam with tears, yet they never fell. Light sympathized, at least until the boy whirled on him, Mary Jane's thumping against the floor. "This is all your fault!"

Fear ignited in Light's veins at seeing the sheer rage that glowed in those pretty blues. "M-my fault? How is this my fault? I haven't done anything! I've never even been here before! You-you can't blame me for any of this! You psychopath!" He fended off the boy as Mellylocks lunged at him. Catching thin wrists in his hand, he stumbled backwards and bumped into the wagon, chains clinking menacingly. His mind raced a mile a minute, plotting methods of escape, ways to wound but not kill…and then he realized. It would be pointless. He could easily fend off the blond, but what then? He'd still be trapped here, with the other performers waiting outside…waiting for him. The ringmaster-B…he would be waiting. Light froze, panic setting in, and then he shoved hard at the boy who seemed desperate to claw his face off. "Get off me!"

Mellylocks hissed and spat. To Light, it sounded more like a sob. "It's all because of you! Fucking you! If he wasn't looking for you, this never would've happened! We'd all still be happy! I wouldn't have to go out there and paste a stupid smile on my face every night! She wouldn't be hanging up there like some kinda witch! And he, oh God he wouldn't be…!"

"Darling…..is that any way to treat our most special guest?"

Light stilled, and the blond followed suite. The curtain was being held open with razor claws, and a pair of gleaming red eyes watched them squabble, lips spread into a skeletal grin. They both spoke his name at the same time, yet Light was the only one who went noticed. "B…."

B's smile grew a lot wider, his claws practically ripping the fabric as he stepped out of the main tent, joining them in the room. His puppet was right behind him, lingering in the shadow, pathetic and empty sockets focused on Light. As if she could really see. Maybe she could. Certainly she saw his misery, and tasted it too, for there was a terrible expression on her face. Not sadness, or even terror….but pity.

She knew.

_Kill me please, like he could you….._

_Oh God, save me from this place….._

_I laugh, I cry, what do I feel….?_

_Come, it's time to start the show….._

"Actually," and B crooned this, like he was speaking to a child. "I prefer being called Ringmaster. Melly is the only one who refuses to submit and call me anything but B." Clucking his tongue, he smirked at the cross-dresser. "Such a terrible, naughty little doll you've been tonight….teasing my guests. Nearly ruining the show. Attacking dear Light. Oh yes. So very, very naughty. I should punish you." He stepped further into the room, for it was a room, Lights's mind unconsciously supplied. A store room, where the best attractions were kept. "…but I won't. Not now. Tonight, my attention is all _yours_….."

It didn't take him long to notice that the man was looking at him. Right. At. Him. Light quivered, aware of the formerly furious Mellylocks going docile and stepping aside, his hand a hair inch from his elbow. Ready to grab at any time. "To keep me here," he mumbled, directing his gaze to the ringmaster, who watched him in amusement. He seemed to know every little thought that raced through his head. "Let me go. What you're doing here, it..it's illegal! You can't treat people like this, you monster. They're human beings! You deserve to rot in jail!"

That idea was clearly humorous to the man, for he laughed and shook his head, black hair floating around his pale, wicked face. "So innocent, so pure….tell me, Light," he traced his tongue across a glinting fang. Light was too distracted by the act to realize B had used his name. "Have you ever wanted to make someone surfer? Really suffer? In all of your short, boring life, has there ever been a point where you just want to-" _screeeeech. _B dragged one of his fingernails across his throat. It made a horrible noise, and Light noticed blood fleck his neck cloth. "C'mon…."

"N-no. Not once." Squaring his shoulders, Light took a step closer and grit his teeth. He'd face this monster head on! "I'm not like you! I could never treat someone the way you treat these people!"

A bold faced lie. And B knew it. "You're lying…..how sweet. Just to please me?" He barked a nasally laugh, and Light cringed as it floated around his head, loud as a gong. It wasn't a lie. Torturing someone just for the sake of torturing them was sick and twisted and wrong, and he could never do it! "I think you'll do just fine. I love a good fighting spirit. It makes my work so much more fun!"

What work? Fun? Both words created a tick, pounding horror deep in Light's gut. It was so much worse than when Mellylocks had come to sit beside him, or the puppet had reached for him with her broken hands. "N-no…..no! You're going to let me leave! I won't let you mess with me any more! Enough is enough already!" He made to sidestep the man and exit the tent, but the hand that had been wavering dormant next to his arm suddenly clamped down, holding him there. Light gasped, shooting Mellylocks a shocked stare. He knew the boy blamed him for his predicament, but why…? "Let go of me!" he tugged and wrenched, fighting to escape the blond. He simply held tighter, fingertips eating into his skin. "Ow! Release me right now!"

B watched his performer hold him in place, and with a simple nod the puppet girl joined them, taking Light's other arm in a frail, corpse like grip. Light fought against them, fear making his complexion shift from gold to a dingy, pasty grey. "You're not going anywhere. I've searched far too long for someone like you, Light." Snickering, the ringmaster closed the space between them and cupped his face. As soon as those cold, dead fingers touched his cheek, Light gagged. There was a stench of soil and something metallic coming from the male, and he could see specks of brownish red dust collecting in his hair. It looked like

"Mmm…." B leaned in close, tongue wiggling in a threatening manner before the brunette's lips. He turned his cheek to it, but the muscle simply followed and swept up his earlobe, a dry laugh rustling some strands of his hair. "I think you know what this is all about now. My performers have done a wonderful job of preparing you. I prefer it that way. Means we can get down to business. But just to show that I'm not half bad, I can give you a fighting chance. I'll even make it easy on you! A simple game. If you win, you're free to go. If I win, you stay." His laugh deepened, feeling uncomfortably sensual. "How about….hide and seek? ….it's my favorite…."

"_Run and hide, run and hide…we will always find you. This is my circus…there's no escape from me…."_

"No…..no! That's not fair at all," Light snapped, pushing away the ringmaster's hand. "You have to give me a real chance!" He didn't favor hiding in the darkness of this circus anyway. Any attempts would be fruitless. B would find him, no matter where he went. It was his favorite game, after all. And he had to get out of here. He-he had to….

The two beside him didn't seem surprised that he'd contested the man's suggestion. Mellylocks actually appeared…..dejected. While the girl was looking at him with a pitiful smile. Light wasn't sure why, and it made him painfully aware of the stares all fixated on him, ranging from pale blue to aquamarine, to the sole dark one of the woman above them, and then his….a sinful, bloody red. "Very well….if you don't want to play a game," B's hand moved towards him again, and this time it swept through his auburn locks. Possessively, claiming him. "How about this. Who am I, Light?"

Behind his back, the two performers shared a look. One sightless, the other hating. Light tried not to notice, focusing on the question that had his hackles raised and spine going stiff as a pole. "Who are you," he repeated it carefully, searching for a trick. There had to be one. It was too simple. He was B, wasn't he? He'd said so! "…what happens if I answer right?"

Fingers paused in their sweep through his hair. B smiled. "Ah…you didn't think I'd tell you, did you? Such a simple question Light. The answer has been in front of your face since the beginning. I had to make _one _thing uncertain." He raised a finger to his lips and traced their hellish swell, keeping the teen's eye all the while. "Choose carefully though; the consequences could be deadly. You're so close to your freedom. You really don't want to make a mistake…."

No. No he didn't. Like B said. He was so close to getting out of here…Light couldn't mess up! He wouldn't! He was a genius; he could figure this out. "Who are you…." sinking into the well of knowledge and wisdom he'd collected over his fifteen years, he frowned, reviewing everything he'd seen during the night. All of it blurred in his head, a horror fest of blood, bruises, fear and unease. Each new "attraction" had brought its own wave of terror unto him, and introducing them all, as he watched him suffer, that devilish smile stark on his face, was the man who now stood before him. Mellylocks called him B. Light only assumed that was his name. But who was he? Some psychotic murderer? An escapee from some penitentiary?

"_It's ok…..you're special. He won't hurt you. He won't treat you like he does us. …"_

"_B destroyed us, made us into the monsters you've been watching all night….."_

As if they'd actually spoken, he heard Mellylocks and the puppet's words words echoing through his mind. They made him feel…strange. They'd been trying to tell him something, he was sure. Light crossed his arms over his chest as far as he could, hearing B chuckle while he watched him with that disturbing smile. It was the smile of a madman. Light's skin crawled. No. "Not a freak, or a madman," he muttered, barely noticing Mellylocks and the puppet girl mimic his words almost perfectly in time. Earlier, Mellylocks had said something when they were first introduced. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but after all this, seeing the horror that B called a circus, Light recalled…and he gasped, terror forcing his eyes to the leering façade before him.

"_If you call him Ringmaster, that'll make him happy. We don't like him to be happy. He doesn't deserve it. So I call him B. That's his real name." _

"…not a madman, or a monster…." he breathed, goose bumps rolling down his arms. B wasn't any of those. He was so much more. He was the one who lead the circus housing monstrous attractions and performers who looked as if they'd been touched by death itself. The man with irises that resembled puddles of blood more than anything human, and saw too much when he looked at a crowd, able to pick out those so called special souls he so longed for. He could see them, and he was always searching, watching. "Waiting…"

"For you," the man finished with a dark little smile, drawing his hand down the back of Light's neck and gripping it hard. Freezing him in place. Mellylocks and the girl were long forgotten as they stepped aside, leaving the two alone, face to face. "Who am I, Light? Hmm…?" That mouth brushed down the side of Light's golden cheek, breath fluttering across his flesh and scraping like dried leaves. "Tell me."

Light whimpered. Partly out of pain, and partly…out of fear. "….the ringmaster."

"….yes."

Everything happened at once. B ensnared him with his skeletal arms, the tails of his jacket brushing Light's thighs. He fought to free himself, his own words on loop in his head as he was drawn out of the room and back into the main tent, a swarm of performers surrounding them, closing them into a tight knit ring of broken, deformed bodies. Light recognized a few; the flier girl, Mellylocks, and the boy with flaming red hair who Mellylocks went to stand beside. None of them registered though, even when B stood aside and let them touch him, paw at his clothes and hair. He kept thinking, and a broken sounding sob tore from his lips.

The ringmaster-the damned ringmaster! He was the only one who would have such eyes. There was no more perfect a way to distinguish the leader from his drones. Hot, bleeding irises with midnight pupils, stained forever with the blood of those lives he'd stolen. Those were the eyes that watched him now, stark above a set of glistening jowls and freakish, spindly limbs. Light stared at them, hugging himself while the cast pressed in closer than ever, their soulless gazes watching him. Dead. All dead, but for he and B.

"I can't believe this," Light clutched his arms, a lone sob rumbling his throat. He never should've come here…if not for his damn curiosity, he'd be home safe and sound, living out a life of mundane pleasure. But now he was trapped. And they never, ever released their special souls. "Let me go…please, please let me go…."

"And let you return to your boring life? No no. I could never do such a terrible thing," B-no, the Ringmaster purred. "You once had to hide, but no longer. You're special, little Light, and here you will thrive. I'll never let anyone taint you again." Pulling him into his skeletal embrace, he held him close, touching those cold lips to the side of Light's neck and tasting the tears that slowly began to trickle down. Light shuddered, "I found you…and I will NEVER let you go…."

The cast began circle them, their smiles and laughter a blur to the brunette. Light looked at the man holding him, red meshing with caramel, and then he tossed his head back and let loose an ear shattering scream.

"_Never let you go, never let you go…." _

Everyone hummed the fucking words, including the ringmaster. Light tried to block it out, screaming louder and louder, and he fell to his knees and gripping his head, eyes wide with the horrible truth. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, the man in charge a demon possessing a sadistic smile, his tapered nails scratching across Light's scalp. Petting his hair like a master might his pet, "Home," he started to hum along, tears splashing the tent's floor. "I just want to go home….."

A talon slipped, scratching Light's cheek. Blood welled up, and B scooped it up and brought it to his lips, tasting the salt and tang of copper. "But you _are _home. You belong here Light, with me. This is a home for all of us. People like you, people like me; we belong here." He kneeled beside Light, stroking his flesh with bloody fingertips and too sharp nails. "Lovely, special souls…souls like you. We were searching for you. Now we've found you. And we'll never let you go,"

Light curled into himself, never able to escape the touch. This amused B, and he grinned, the chorus of the cast's song growing louder, pulsing through the tent. He joined in this time, and after a moments even Light's voice began to mingle smoothly with theirs, a disturbing element that would never be forgotten in all of the circus's history. It was the joining of something new. An awakening. The ringmaster had found his special soul-now he'd never be alone again.

"_Come to his circus, see the show, but never ever look him in the face. For if he sees you with those dark red eyes, and looks into your special soul, he will never, ever let you go…" _


End file.
